Object Lessons: Rantings of a Lone Pamphleteer
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Jon's out of town. So's my best friend. I'm really on my own this week, and the solitude is nagging at my extroverted heart. Solution? Clearly pizza.

So, after a brief (and ironic) trip to Sears to research prices on a stationary exercise bike, I call local favorite Ratsie's Terrapin Eatery.

While leaving with my pizza, I encountered one of those family sets you sometimes see in the summertime, sporty looking families with lanky teenage boys and girls, all enrolled in the University's summer soccer and Cyber camps. These little groups drop off their kids and stay a day, to see the town and make sure they're kids will be ok, and not living in a slum. Mostly, they forage for food.

There are many, many eateries near campus, not the least of which is our favorite dive pizza place. As I pointed out to one family that asked me about my pizza, there are many fine choices, such as Bently's {to which the mother replied "Nooooo... Not Bently's...." like a 3-year-old). Ok, well, there's Noodle's & Co., tasty and cool decor. Have a nice day! No, I can't really recommend the Fe. Sorry.

I crossed the street and got into my car, and got stuck in that weird parking lot long enough for the two Izod families to catch up to me at the crosswalk next to the CVS. They waved at me, not side to side, but in the up-and-down mode, so I rolled down my window, pulled up on the crosswalk, and leaned out to hear the mother speak: "What about Applebees? Is that any good?"

"Um, you know, it's an Applebee's."

"Boston Market?" asked the dad. Where were these people from?

"It's a chain, chicken rotisserie."

"Well, I just don't know." said the mom." My pizza smells cold.

"Okay, you know what?" I start, "Try Plato's, just the other side of the Applebees. There, past the little hotel, on the right. Have the mini burgers, or the breakfast steaks. Gyros and pasta are good, too. Definitely get the pie, just any pie. Okay? Bye!"

I've never met such picky tourists. They were at the right place when they started. Ratsies. Hmmm. Though the name and decor do make me think of dimunitive rats, the pie can't be beat. Get the pesto pizza -- no tomato sauce, with grilled chicken and mushrooms...

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